


Pal is a Fighting Word

by areyoutherelarry



Series: Post-Zayn Leaving Ziam [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fights, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoutherelarry/pseuds/areyoutherelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam wants Zayn and Louis to make up, but they don't go about it exactly how he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pal is a Fighting Word

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Zayn leaving fics are interesting.

            Zayn knows it’s probably a ruse when Liam invites him over to his suite at the Four Seasons; it’s just something about the way he asks that’s hesitant, too tentative for Liam. He knows he probably won’t like what he finds when he walks in, but he goes because Liam seemed falteringly hopeful when he asked. He knows he’s late; he did that on purpose.

            Liam answers the door and he actually looks a little nervous. He can hear voices in the room just beyond the door. The suite has a little entrance so Zayn can’t see who it is but he can guess. He guesses it’s probably Louis and Harry since Niall seems to be on some kind of vacation with the London Irish League or whatever the fuck they call themselves.

            “Don’t be mad,” Liam says as greeting and Zayn shakes his head at Liam because he’s not really mad, annoyed maybe, but not mad. He’d been expecting this. Liam can’t go a day without mentioning Louis in some kind of way. Zayn’s really more surprised at himself for falling for it.

            He takes a steely breath and follows Liam into the living area. Louis and Harry are tucked into the couch, and Zayn thinks that they might be back together. He sees Louis visibly bristle under Harry’s arm when he crosses the threshold, and he’s not sure if he’s ready for this.

            “What’s he doing here?” Louis asks Liam, and his tone is strikingly aggressive.

            “Right here, mate,” Zayn grumbles because he can’t help himself.

            “Again, why the fuck is he here, Liam?” Louis nearly yells.

            “Lou,” Harry mutters, his tone warning.

            “I can be wherever the fuck I want,” Zayn spits.

            “Well, I don’t want to be wherever the fuck you are, pal,” Louis grumbles and “pal” sends shocks of white-hot fury through Zayn. Louis tries to storm out of the room and knocks shoulders with Zayn who unyieldingly stands in the entrance to the room. Zayn pushes him back, stopping Louis from leaving the room, and then because he fucking can he swings with “pal” ringing in his ears. Louis swings back, catching Zayn in the lip. Then they’re tussling, and he hears Liam and Harry mumble expletives. Hands start pulling them apart and Zayn gives in easily because he didn’t really want to fight with him. Zayn can taste blood on his lips and he’s pretty sure he’s going to have a fat lip for the next few days. The hands pulling him away though aren’t covered in tattoos like he expects; there’s just one cross tattoo. Harry drags him into the small dining area, pushing him into a corner.

            “Hi H,” Zayn greets, swiping at his mouth.

            “Zayn,” Harry says ruefully.

            “Long time, no see, no talk, no texts.”

            “All those things go two ways, but I don’t wan to fight with you,” Harry responds, “I’ve missed you.”

            “Yeah, are you sure about that?”

            “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that I missed you. I missed talking about existential crises with you and what life would be like if we didn’t have the stupid images we were painted with before we knew better. I missed the way you’d dance with me, even though you hated dancing. I missed talking to you during breakfast. I missed the way you’d always find me on stage to make sure I was drinking water and taking care of myself. So yeah, Zee, I've missed you. You’re making me regret that now, though.”

            “Not my intention,” Zayn mumbles, swiping again at his mouth.

            “Did you have to pick a fight with him?”

            “Did he have to be a dick?”

            Harry sighs and runs his hand over his face. They stand in the tiny dining room, staring at the generic dishes that the hotel leaves in the room. Zayn hated living in rooms like this over and over and over again for months at a time. Sometimes, he agreed with Louis that sleeping on the bus felt most like home, but usually it was Liam who made him feel like home wherever they were. He wants to break one of the stupid, ugly dishes.

            “I’ve heard the new album,” Harry comments, conversationally, like they weren’t just arguing.

            “Yeah?”

            “It’s good, but I know you know that. It doesn’t change the fact that Louis is still mad, that we’re all a little mad, but I am proud of you. Angry proud.”

            “I guess it’s the most I can ask for.”

            They stand there just staring for a while as they listen to the livid whispering happening in the area only a few feet away. Zayn should’ve turned around, should’ve pretended to be busy promoting the album, and done something with Gigi just to upset Liam. But he couldn’t do that, not when Liam makes him so happy, so alive; Liam makes life so much more worth living. Zayn snorts at his own sentimentality.

            “Zayn?”

            “Yeah?” Zayn looks up at Harry, and Harry’s arms are open. Zayn can’t help the soft smile that graces his face because it’s Harry after all, and Harry being a hard-ass is hard to deal with so this little bit of softness he’ll exploit. Harry’s arms wrap around Zayn’s shoulders, and Zayn presses one hand into the small of Harry’s back and the other into Harry’s side. He’s impossibly warm and smells mostly like fresh laundry and cologne. Zayn knows that he probably smells like cologne, paint, and cigarette smoke. Harry’s the fresh to his grit. He feels Harry’s heavy exhale of breath on his neck and he clenches his fist in Harry’s shirt.

            “Don’t do anything like that again.”

            Zayn snorts suddenly because he’s left the band. Is there anything like leaving that he could do that even remotely equates? He pats Harry’s hip and nods.

            “Don’t ruin Liam. That’s what I mean, don’t ruin Liam,” The implied, _like you ruined the band_ , he doesn’t say.

            Zayn almost starts arguing with the unsaid words because It’s harsh and there wasn’t much for him to ruin. They all were about done with what had turned into somewhat of a farce. He waffles between wanting to scoff at Harry because Liam is a fucking adult and wanting to promise that he’d never intentionally hurt Liam, assure him that he loves Liam. He just shakes his head and mumbles, “I won’t.”

            There’s a hand on his shoulder suddenly and he tenses, “I’m sorry I swung at you,” Louis mumbles begrudgingly.

            “I get it,” Zayn replies, “I’m sorry too, Louis, for everything.”

            “It’s just you out of everyone knows what leaving would do,” Louis adds, and Zayn knows the vulnerability that Louis is showing. He knows Louis is referring to his dad leaving and then Mark leaving. Louis had crawled into Zayn’s bed when he found out that his mom and Mark were divorcing. Zayn had been this consistent anchor for him where he’d spill out all of his deepest, darkest insecurities in a way he couldn’t with the other boys because he’d always felt kindred to Zayn.

            “It wasn’t easy,” he mumbles, “It sucked so much because I missed you four so much and like I knew that this would happen. I knew you would hate me, and I still couldn’t stick it out anymore. Like this makes me happy and I’m not miserable like I was for those last few months, but I have this, like, huge gaping hole where you four used to be and the fact that you hate me, it’s a little too much sometimes,” Zayn explains, matching Louis's vulnerability with his own diffidence.

            “We don’t hate you,” Louis assures, “I don’t hate you.”

            The tears come on suddenly and he didn’t expect to cry, but he also didn’t expect Louis to say that. He thought he’d wrapped those feelings in barbed wire and thrown them deep within himself to never be touched again. He didn’t expect it to boomerang to the surface like this. Suddenly, there are arms wrapping around him and he lets out a wretched sob into the person’s neck. It’s Louis because the collarbones have words written on them. Louis’s holding him tight and making these little calming noises. Zayn feels like the one thing that was keeping him from being truly content has just been removed and he’s so relieved.

            “I could never hate you,” Louis promises; his voice is soft but fierce, and his grip on Zayn is tight.

            “He’s right,” Harry agrees and Louis lets Zayn go when his sobs turn to hiccups.

            Liam pulls him into his side and presses a kiss into the crown of Zayn’s head. He grips Liam’s waist tightly and he watches as Louis does the same to Harry. It surprises him because when he’d left they’d called it quits for the third time in their four-year relationship. He thought that it’d been over for real because their management had released Louis from his relationship with Eleanor on the grounds that he didn’t need a beard anymore. Even though he won’t admit it he’d kept tabs on the boys. He knows that Louis knocked up some chick he’d clubbed with. He couldn’t imagine that Harry had forgiven him that easily for that and he pictures them having a Ross-Rachel-esque argument about being on a break.

            “You two,” Zayn comments gesturing between them.

            “Yeah,” Louis responds and smiles beatifically up at Harry. Harry grins and drops a kiss to Louis’s nose.

            “So the baby?”

            “He’s mine, yeah. Was stupid, but he’s great and all. We worked through it,” He glances up at Harry, “We’re working through it.”

            “Congrats then.”

            “Thanks.”

            “So are you like the step dad?” Zayn asks Harry, and Harry snorts, shaking his head a little. Zayn doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be in affirmation or dissidence.

            “We’ll see,” Louis replies vaguely.

            Liam and Zayn sit on the couch, while Louis and Harry curl into the loveseat. They chat about all of the things that Zayn has missed. They talk about what kind of promo Zayn is doing; they joke about what it’s like not to be under their oppressive management machine. They talk about the PR relationships they’re in now that are more under their control. Harry tells them ridiculous stories about the “Big Gay Yacht” trip. Zayn tells them what it’s like to be the only person to answer questions during an interview. It’s good to catch up and share the experiences with people he knows will understand.

            “I’d say let’s go to dinner,” Liam declares, “But we all know how that would turn out.”

            They laugh because they know it would be a media and fan frenzy, and there would be so much speculation. Zayn doesn’t need the focus taken away from his album and put onto this semi-reunion.

            “Plus, Niall would kill us,” Harry laughs.

            “Well then he shouldn’t have fucked off to Australia,” Louis mutters.

            “Don’t be jealous, it’s not becoming, love,” Harry responds, kissing Louis’s temple again, “We should go. I’ve got a party and Louis’s got a dinner to be at.”

            “Yeah,” Louis sighs and rubs at his eyes. Zayn wonders if the two of them will ever get a break. They say good-bye to Harry and Louis; Zayn hugs them tightly before they go because he’s not sure when he’ll see them again. They hug Liam too, then they kiss each other gently, and they leave in opposite directions. Zayn doesn’t know how they do it. They’ve been doing it far longer than him and Liam, and he and Liam have never been as serious as Harry and Louis. Zayn remembers their engagement in Brazil during the Where We Are tour, and the high they rode until Eleanor was forced to join them on tour for a while and Louis was forced to go to her graduation. It was a nightmare; he and Liam never had to deal with that. They had stunts sure, but their interactions were not as closely monitored and controlled. He’d actually enjoyed Perrie’s company and he knew that Liam probably did fall in love with Sophia at the end. He shakes his head and sends a little prayer for them.

            When the door closes, he turns on Liam and smacks him hard in the chest. He growls, “Don’t you ever do something like that to me again.”

            “Sorry,” Liam mumbles, “You both needed closure about it. That’s all.”

            “I fucking needed some warning, that’s what I needed, you dick.”

            “Sorry, love. It didn’t turn out that bad though, did it?”

            “I cried, like a fucking infant, it sucked.”

            “A cute infant.”

            “I don’t like being cute.”

            “A tough, mysterious infant.”

            “Shut up,” Zayn mumbles, smacking softly at Liam’s chest again.

            “I couldn’t have my…you fighting with my two of my best mates. I couldn’t live like that.”

            “So this meeting was entirely selfish.”

            “Yeah, somewhat.”

            “Brilliant,” Zayn laughs acerbically.

            He curls up on the couch, and Liam asks, “Do you want some food? We could order room service.”

            “What about some pizza? Could we order some pizza?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Liam agrees and dials the pizzeria that delivers to the hotel. He orders the specialty and they tell him they’ll deliver it in a little under an hour.

            When he’s done ordering, Liam drags Zayn onto his lap. Zayn goes willing, straddling Liam’s hips. Liam kisses him lazily and Zayn grips Liam’s face so he can tilt it up so he can kiss the sensitive part of Liam’s jaw. Liam squeezes Zayn’s hips and runs his hands down Zayn’s back until they are gripping Zayn’s ass. Zayn moans against Liam’s pulse point.

            “Do you think we could make it happen before the pizza gets here?” Liam rasps.

            “How dare you fucking doubt me,” Zayn hisses as he nips at Liam’s jaw.

            “Fuck,” Liam mumbles as he pulls at Zayn’s sweatshirt. Zayn lets him pull the sweatshirt over his head and then he pulls Liam’s shirt over his head. Liam runs his fingers up and down Zayn’s torso. He unbuttons Liam’s jeans as he kisses a line down Liam’s chest. When he gets to the line of hair that leads under Liam’s pants, he indicates that he wants Liam to lift his hips, and Liam does immediately. Zayn drags his jeans and boxers down low enough so that Liam’s dick bobs out. He tentatively licks a strip up the length of Liam’s dick before kissing the tops of Liam’s thighs and the points of his hips.

            “Fuck Zee, hurry up,” Liam moans.

            “Don’t rush me,” Zayn drawls, sucking a bruise into the tight skin at Liam’s navel.

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Liam mumbles. Liam laces his fingers into Zayn’s hair and tugs him towards his dick.

            “I’m shaving my hair if you keep this up,” Zayn teases, going in to lick the tip of Liam’s dick. He hollows his cheeks and takes more of Liam than he can probably handle. He gags a little and Liam groans. It doesn’t take long before Liam is warning him that he’s about to come. He takes Liam a little deeper and he feels the come hit the back of his throat. Liam pulls him onto the couch, kisses him, and nibbles at Zayn’s lip. Zayn pushes his dick into Liam’s stomach.

            “Stand up,” Liam says and Zayn’s not sure what he’s talking about until he’s indicating that he should put his feet on either side of Liam’s hips. Liam drags him closer and guides Zayn’s dick into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around Zayn’s tip and then drags his hips closer again. Zayn can’t help it when he thrusts a little bit; he can feel Liam’s throat spasm a little and it makes his orgasm swirl in his core. Liam presses a dry finger against Zayn’s puckered hole and Zayn comes without warning down Liam’s throat.

            “Fuck,” Zayn mumbles as he melts down onto the couch. Liam laughs and nuzzles Zayn’s neck.

            “The pizza’s going to be here soon,” Liam murmurs after they lay on the couch for a while.

            “You get it, I still can’t move,” Zayn mutters. Liam’s laugh is bright and splendid as he pulls up his jeans and goes to the bathroom, right as the phone rings and Liam tells them to bring up the pizza.

            Zayn didn’t realize how good post-coital pizza was.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
